Out of Orange
by ScorpioGirl1987
Summary: Post-season 7. This fanfic will lead up to happy endings for all- well, most- of our favorite inmates, both current and former. Nicky and Flaca hear great news about their deported friends, Cindy repairs her relationship with her mother and daughter, but her criminal past comes to bite her. New evidence of Taystee's innocence resurfaces, and Alex's past comes to bite her.


**So, this is going to be an anthology for some of the characters, plus I created three new characters (One CO, two inmates). This will be seven or eight parts and will focus on that many groups of characters or just one character. I know many people don't like Piper, so she won't be in this fic much. The title is inspired by the real Alex Vause's (Catherine Cleary Waltors) memoir, _Out of Orange_. I know Jenji wanted to show the realism of ICE and the justice system, but, how many people watch movies/TV shows or read books for realism? So I say fuck realism!**

**...I mean, this story will have _some_ realism, and there will be bumps and curveballs. But ultimately, this series will have happy endings for all the good guys!**

**I'm trying to decide whether or not to include flashbacks (for character backstory), or if I should just have that character tell someone about it (the flashback they would have). This will also be posted on AO3 as a series.**

**This will be taking place chronologically, so I'm gonna start with Maritza first, since she left the show early.**

**I will also be picking up some plot points that were dropped (The video of Piscatella torturing the inmates, Maritza, and Bennett)**

**Since most people in Colombia don't speak English (and I barely speak Spanish), Maritza's chapter will be written in English, but, let's pretend that everyone's speaking Spanish and we're just reading the translations of what people are saying.**

**I do not own Orange Is The New Black. It belongs to Netflix.**

The flight to Colombia felt like an eternity. The chains and shackles were digging into different parts of Maritza's body no matter how much she shifted in her seat. She sighed, closed her eyes, and started thinking about how she ended up in this situation. She's seen her birth certificate and passport that said she was born in Miami, so why...?

_'They were fake.'_ She realized. _'Of course they were. But still, why didn't she warn me after I was arrested or after I was released? I could have applied for citizenship or at the very least gotten married to a US citizen! Okay, you know what? Fine. Then she can explain to Julianna why her mother can't come to see her anymore!'_

Julianna.

Maritza gasped and froze. How could she have forgotten her daughter?! She's barely even seen Julianna since she's been out of prison! She leaned forward with her head in her hands and sobbed quietly, guilt overcoming her.

After she calmed down, she wondered if her mother would ever tell Julianna about her. _'No...probably not. She will lie to Julianna like she lied to me. Well...as soon as I get back to the United States, she is in for it.'_

Maritza landed in Bucaramanga, Colombia with a new determination: she was going to survive no matter what.

XX

The deportees were dropped off at the Aeropuerto Internacional Palonegro, about twenty miles west of Bucaramanga. The shackles were released from the deportees when they stepped off the plane. Maritza sighed in relief and started massaging her wrists. She tapped the lady in front of her on the shoulder.

"Hey. Have you been here before?" She asked in Spanish.

"Yes, but it's been a long time." She replied, looking over her shoulder briefly.

"Okay. Everyone generally speaks English, right?"

"No, only the rich speak English fluently." The woman replied.

Maritza huffed in frustration. "Shit."

"Why are you worried? Your Spanish is good!"

"Barely..." Maritza said quietly. Once the deportees made it out of the jet bridge, some of them went off alone or in small groups. Maritza scoffed and shook her head in annoyance. "No, it's fine. I totally don't need help. Thanks, anyway."

She walked out to the hallway and someone called out for her.

"Maritza Ramos?"

Maritza turned to see a security guard heading towards her. "Yes?"

"Your cousin is looking for you. Follow me, please."

Maritza complied. "Oh my God, that's right- I have a cousin who lives here!"

"Yep. She asked us to have you wait in Security until she arrives." The security guard replied. Once they got to the security office, Maritza called her cousin Tana.

"Tana? Oh, thank all the Gods! I thought I was gonna die!" Maritza exclaimed. "How'd you know I'd be here?"

"Your mother called me after your prison friend called her." Tana explained. "We didn't know when exactly you'd be deported, so I just called the airport here to keep an eye out for you. I also called the airports in Cali and Bogota in case you ended up there."

Maritza nodded. Well, at least that lying cunt did one thing right. "Great. So, can you please pick me up?"

"I can't. I'm bedridden with a broken leg." Tana answered. "But my daughter Mora will pick you up after she's done with school."

Maritza sighed and nodded. "Okay, thanks."

"You're welcome. See you soon!"

"Bye." Maritza hung up and sighed.

"Would you like to call your mother?" The guard asked.

"No. I have nothing to say to her." Maritza replied.

XX

About an hour later, a young woman about Maritza's height with short, black hair walked into the security office. "Maritza?"

"That's me." Maritza stood up and smiled.

"Hi!" Mora exclaimed and pulled Maritza into a hug. "Welcome to Colombia! Or I guess, welcome home?"

Maritza scoffed and shook her head. "I have only been here once years ago. This place is hardly home."

"Well, it will be. You'll love it! I promise." Mora said. She lead her cousin out to the parking lot to a small car.

"Does everyone drive clown cars?" Maritza asked.

"Pretty much." Mora replied. They drove onto the freeway. "So, Mom says you can live with us until you get back on your feet. She can help you find a job."

"Oh, well...are there any beauty parlors or salons?" Maritza asked.

"There's a few. Are you a hairdresser?"

"Sort of. I'm more of a makeup and style person." Maritza shrugged. "And a booty dancer. That was my last job before...well..."

"You'll find your place." Mora assured her.

Maritza stared out the window at the lush flora and bright blue sky. It was beautiful here, and the city was bright and welcoming. People were dressed in vibrant colors and were talking and laughing. Colombia didn't seem so bad at first glance. Maybe it won't be so bad after all.


End file.
